


Cheese Bag

by Creative__Writing



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 'give me attention nerd', 'virgil i am doing our taxes, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, M/M, Not Beta Read, Patton is allergic to anything related to NSFW, Virgil just wants attention, analogical - Freeform, im glad thats a tag, oh my god they were roommates, prompt giving was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 08:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative__Writing/pseuds/Creative__Writing
Summary: “You sound like Roman.”Virgil stuck his tongue out at the thought. “I do not- I just require affection and attention and all of that good stuff.”





	Cheese Bag

**Author's Note:**

> warnings; mentions of obsessive cleaning

Virgil liked being on his own most of the time. He didn’t require there to be constant attention on him so to say, but when he did want affection, he would adamantly demand it  _ (‘Huh… maybe I am a cat’) _ . Of course, in true kitty nature, Virgil then only needed recognition when it was inconvenient to others. 

For example, when his best friend was reading lines or rehearsing a monologue for an audition. Roman did  _ not _ seem to appreciate Virgil walking into his room at random holding a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, especially not while he attempted to belt the lines of  _ Freeze Your Brain _ .

“‘Sup, Cheese Bag?” 

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, cutting off his backtrack. “ _ Must _ you do this now?”

He shrugged, “I think so. C’mon, dude. Entertain me. Anything is better than me doing cats cradle alone for five hours.” 

“Fi- good Lord, man, you have  _ no _ life!”

Virgil offered a tight lipped ‘smile’. “I am well aware. That’s why I’m here.” 

 

Turns out, not  _ anything _ is better than solo cats cradle. You can only reread Act II Scene I of  _ The Heathers  _ so many times before it drives you insane. Which is exactly why Virgil was never a theatre kid. Never could be a theatre kid. He didn’t care that Veronica was mad at JD for killing the two jocks. The jocks deserved it  _ (well- kinda? They deserved some sort of repercussion).  _

“Virgil, I appreciate you, but if you won’t help me with this, can you please, and I am asking you this nicely, get the  _ fuck _ out of my room?” 

He huffed, “Fine.” 

 

A little damaging to his ego, but it was fine. Didn’t hurt at all. Nope. That was absurd. And- it wasn’t because Roman hated him now. Nope. 

Virgil shook his head as he moved away from the front of Roman’s door. The next on his hit list? Patton. Rarely did Patton turn away time to hang out with his declared ‘emo son’. That being said, there were a few exceptions. 

It was just his luck, then, that the exact moment Virgil walked into the shared living room that it was one of those exceptions. Sometimes, Patton went into a headspace where he needed to clean. They were never able to find an underlying cause, but it was in everyone’s interest to stay out of the way. Tidying was fine, but this wasn’t tidying. Patton tended to deep clean. 

(Virgil had a few suspicions that it was either anxiety, stress, or a pile up of emotions that caused Patton to do so, but so far had no other proof to backup the claim.)

So instead, he watched. The oldest of their group went back and forth from vacuuming to bleaching to vacuuming once again. It was an interesting system that he had planted, though disorganized beyond belief. Across the living room was the staircase to the basement, and thus as well, Virgil’s boyfriend. However, traversing the land of Heavy Cleaner would be risky. When Patton got into his deep clean, he did not enjoy being interrupted- and that meant he would use his Dad Voice. It shouldn’t have worked on any of them, but it did., and it was cursed. 

“Virgil.” Apparently he hadn’t been standing quietly enough. “I know you don’t wear shoes inside like the other rascals. Just run by quickly.”  _ ‘Oh thank God.’ _

So he did. Patton was opening the window, probably to avoid a headache, and Virgil bolted. Sock-clad feet, he almost slipped down the stairs, but caught his footing at the last moment. It was convenient, to say the least. From the middle of the two stairs, the landing, the sound of some obscure music playlist could be heard. Secretly, the emp suspected his boyfriend was a hipster. 

Down the stairs Virgil went. He fauxed nonchalance walking to the corner of the unfinished room where Logan was set up. There was minimal lighting, instead a harsh, bright yellow light bathed the man’s glasses adorned face. Lyrics about a lions roar floated around them, and he huffed some laughter.

“Greetings, Virge. To what do I owe the pleasure to?” Logan didn’t look up from the desk, his writing didn’t even cease.

“Not much. Roman didn’t want my help and Patton is…” He mimed using a squirt bottle, and despite the fact that the other couldn’t see the demonstration, Logan still hummed in understanding.

“I see. So you braved his wrath to pay a visit to the basement?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I payed a visit to you, give me attention, nerd.” 

“As lovely as your proposition is-”

He shook his head, “No-  _ attention _ .” 

Logan paused for a moment, before ignoring the interruption, “I am unable to provide you with attention at the moment as I am doing our taxes.”

“That sounds boring, and I might  _ die _ without attention.” 

“You sound like Roman.” 

Virgil stuck his tongue out at the thought. “I do not- I just require affection and attention and all of that good stuff.”

“I am fairly certain I have a quote from Principe that disagrees.”

“You need to… stop quoting what everyone says. The fact you have a notebook just to prove us wrong is infuriating.” 

A smirk played at Logan’s lips. “I do not enjoy being wrong. The book ensures I will not be.” 

Virgil huffed once again. “Whatever-.” He approached the chair Logan sat on, and just before leaning against the back of it with his hands wrapped around his boyfriend, he changed paths. What could have been a hug turned into Virgil sitting on the table. 

There was a heavy heaved sigh. “I’ll take a break soon, alright Bat?” 

He sent back a thumbs up, swinging his legs idly. It was a known fact in the condo that Virgil established dominance through sitting on things that were not chairs, and any effort to dissuade him from doing so would be met with heavy resistance. 

“Are you done yet?” 

“Virgil,  _ please- _ .”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

A devious thought flashed through Logan’s mind when suddenly a Dad Sneeze™ could be heard throughout the house.

“Don’t even think about it, Logan Henderson!” He called down. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi this happened because of something in the sanders sides amino- i actually despise it with my entire being (my writing not the amino), but i worked on it for awhile so it's getting posting gosh darn it


End file.
